


I'll Share My Blanket Fort with You

by orderlychaos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blanket Forts, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Clint smiled.  “Stay here then,” he suggested.  “We’ll make a blanket fort.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Phil hummed.  “That sounds good.”</em></p><p> </p><p>When the morning is too tough to face, Clint and Phil make a blanket fort, and then Clint asks a question that might just change his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Share My Blanket Fort with You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the post on tumblr a while ago about Phil being the "Stay in bed 5 more minutes!" snuggle enforcer :)
> 
> http://adamantsteve.tumblr.com/post/86546369121/kaciart-can-be-whoever-you-want-yay-so

Grunting, Clint Barton did his best to wrangle his thoughts as something disturbed him from sleep.  It took him a minute, but eventually he realized the clamouring roar near his head was actually the alarm clock.  Groping blindly towards the bedside table, Clint considered using deadly force to silence the onslaught of sound.  The muscles in his shoulders protested as his stitches pulled, pain flaring out from his dark purple bruises.  Ugh.  Seriously, it was too early to be awake.  Muttering a curse under his breath, Clint managed to thumb the off button about three seconds before he threw the whole damn alarm at the wall.  Shifting had turned his entire back into a dull, throbbing ache, but aside from the bruising and several thin cuts, he was still in one piece.  Mostly because Phil and Natasha were stubborn and really, really dangerous when pissed off.

The last seventy-two hours had been insane, starting with Clint being grabbed right off the streets of Bogota, and ending in Phil and Natasha blowing up several important buildings to find him.  Not to mention the debrief afterwards, although Clint had been stuck in Medical and spared most of it.  Once the drugs had cleared his system, Phil had been allowed to take Clint home, and they’d fallen gratefully into bed, exhausted and brain-dead.  Clint had hoped to remain asleep for at least twelve hours, but he’d clearly underestimated his boyfriend’s work ethic.

“Phil,” he muttered.

There was a muffled sigh from beside Clint, before Phil rolled over and buried his face in Clint’s uninjured shoulder.  Still half asleep, Phil’s face had a softness to it that it never achieved when he was completely alert, and the sight never failed to make Clint’s breath catch in his lungs.  Clint might work with a team full of incredibly gorgeous superheroes, but none of them had ever looked as beautiful as Phil did half asleep, or sent the same warmth flooding through his chest.

Phil curled around Clint a little tighter than he’d been willing to do the night before, his face pressed into the gap between Clint’s shoulder and neck, and a heavy arm slung across Clint’s waist.  Clint couldn’t stop his fond smile.  It was a little known fact that Phil Coulson was secretly a cuddle monster.  Burrowing his fingers into the hair at Phil’s nape, Clint scratched lightly. Phil hummed, his entire body relaxing into the motions.  “Five more minutes,” Phil murmured.

Smiling, Clint curled closer to the warm, relaxed body next to him, tangling his and Phil’s legs together.  “Okay,” Clint agreed, sleep tugging at him again.  “But if you’re late to your budget meeting, it’s not my fault.”

“I hate budget meetings,” Phil grumbled.

Smiling, Clint shifted and his eyes slid shut.  He should probably drag himself up and put on the coffee, because Phil wasn’t going to do it, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.  The bed was warm and comfortable, and so was Phil.  Snuggling closer, Clint tangled their legs together and clung, just a little bit.  Phil never begrudged that Clint was a bit of an octopus at times, but Clint just couldn’t help it.  Phil was solid, and steadfast, and he’d been there through Clint’s bad moments, letting him rest on those wide shoulders until Clint could stand on his own again.  He loved Phil’s quiet strength, and Phil’s solid, warm chest that might have been going a little bit soft around the middle, but was perfect for leaning on.  Really, all of Phil was perfect.

Phil let out another sigh.  “I really should get up,” he said.  “But Morrison is going to be at that damn meeting, and he’s going to ramble on about the price of bullets again, and then I’m going to have to strangle him with my tie.”

Clint smiled.  “Stay here then,” he suggested.  “We’ll make a blanket fort.”

Phil hummed.  “That sounds good.”

His arm automatically tightened around Clint’s waist, before Clint felt the brush of Phil’s eyelashes against his skin, as Phil cracked open his eyes.  Reaching over to the bedside table behind him, Phil grabbed his phone and typed out a quick text.  Clint blinked, feeling his eyebrows rise.  He had been absolutely and completely serious when he’d suggested the blanket fort, but he hadn’t actually thought Phil would go with it.  Of course, he probably shouldn’t have assumed -- Phil was absolutely magic about going with Clint’s madcap plans.

Text sent, Phil reached down, and tugged the blankets up until they were both completely covered.  “There,” he said.  “But if Nick calls and asks where I am, you’re manning the battlements of our fort.  A nerf arrow or two should convince him of the validity of my position.”  A small grin curved the corner of his mouth.  “A pillow to the face would probably work, too.”

A swell of love hit Clint right in the chest, and if he’d been standing, the force of it probably would have brought him to his knees.  “Oh my God,” he breathed.  Then he rolled them both over, so Phil was on his back and the blankets were making a dim cave all around them.  He loved this giant, unrepentant dork _so much_.  “Marry me,” he blurted in a rough voice.

Phil blinked up at him, before a wide, joyful smile burst its way across his face.  “Clint…” he said, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Clint’s cheekbone.

“Phil,” Clint replied, suddenly serious.  This hadn’t been how he’d meant to ask, but now that he was here, this moment was more perfect than anything else he could have planned.  “I love you.  So, marry me.  Be my husband and stay with me in our blanket fort forever.”

Despite the dim light underneath the blankets, Clint caught the faint glitter of tears in Phil’s beautiful blue eyes.  “ _Yes_ ,” he said, like the answer should have been obvious.  “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Giving a loud whoop, Clint leaned down to press a kiss to Phil’s lips.  Phil kissed him back, before he surged up and flipped them over again, dislodging the blankets and letting in the morning sunlight.  Clint melted back into the bed, his body going all shivery and pliant as Phil’s weight pressed him down.  He was grinning too much for the kiss to be anything other than messy, but Phil was smiling too, so Clint figured it was okay.  Happiness bubbled out of his chest, catching in his throat, and Clint wanted to throw back his head and laugh, only Phil was kissing him and he didn’t want Phil to stop.  “I can’t believe you said yes,” Clint mumbled against Phil’s lips.

Phil rested his forehead against Clint’s for a moment.  “Clint, believe me when I say there is never going to be any other answer to that question than yes,” he said.  “Yes, yes, yes.”  Shifting, Phil caught Clint’s lips in a toe-curling kiss that snatched the breath from Clint’s lungs.

“I, um, have a ring?” Clint said when Phil pulled back to breathe.

Phil’s eyes went soft, the crinkles at the corners deepening.  “You do?”

“Yeah,” Clint replied, feeling suddenly shy which was _ridiculous_.  “I was still sort of debating if I should take you out to dinner or cook one here for you, but I have the ring.  I… well, I figured if I had the ring, I could do the asking no matter what I decided on, you know?”

Phil kissed him again, a sweet press of lips that was over far too soon.  “Show me?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, okay,” Clint agreed.  He wiggled a bit, trying not to make Phil move even as he reached under the mattress on his side of the bed.  He hadn’t wanted to risk the bedside table drawer, because Phil might find it, but Phil tended not to go looking under the mattress unless there was some sort of emergency and he needed to borrow one of Clint’s throwing knives.

The ring box was purple, because Clint hadn’t been able to resist, and inside were two simple platinum rings.  Clint hadn’t really wanted anything fancy, just something classic that he could wear all the time.  Hopefully forever.

Phil ducked his head, reaching out to trail his finger over one ring, and then the other.  “Two, huh?” he said.

“Yeah, well.”  It was Clint’s turn to glance away and blush.  “I don’t know what your opinions are, but I’m not really looking for a long engagement.”

“You think two weeks is too long?” Phil asked, and that was his planning voice.  Clint blinked, his eyes wide as he stared at Phil.  “I think I can get my friend at the courthouse to do me a favour or two,” Phil added.  “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, his voice thick.  “ _Yes_.  Two weeks is good for me.”

Phil grinned.  “Then it’s a date,” he said.

“A date,” Clint echoed, so full of joy he felt like he was going to burst.

Carefully, Phil took the ring box from his unresisting fingers, and set it carefully on the bedside table.  “Now, there is one other thing I’d like from my fiancé,” he added.

Clint felt a funny spasm go through his chest at the word _fiancé_.  “Yeah?” he said.

Phil wiggled his eyebrows in a completely ridiculous way that never failed for be endearing.  “Celebratory sex,” he said.

Clint grinned.

  
End.


End file.
